The Comforts of Flesh
by Because Love is WAY Over-rated
Summary: Wilson always parades me around like I'm a prized piece of meat at some fucking hick fare. How have I put up with this for so long? How have I allowed our work relationship to get so heavily blurred by our personal relationship? Personal? Who am I kidding? I'm a squeeze & I know it. So why do I feel so torn up about this? When did I start caring & why doesn't alcohol help anymore?


_The Comforts of Flesh_

Even from across the room, I can feel his eyes on me and it makes my back go stiff; my muscles pulling taunt as my hand shakes while I lift my shot of vodka. The noise coming from the hundreds of people and the pounding music does little to distract me; I feel like I'm alone in small room with him and it makes me want to throw up. Sometimes I can't help but to wonder and even worry if someone has ever loathed a single man the way that I loathe the man sitting at the head of a large table of rich business men. Being in the same room as him, it makes me sick; I once left to throw up before being forced to return and warm his bed.

_Disgusting bastard of a man. _I think bitterly, picking up another shot off the bar and knocking it back before pushing myself off my stool and staggering into some people.

"Sorry," I slur, keeping my head down in hopes that my blonde hair will fall forward and hide my face.

"No problem at all toots," the man I had practically fallen on assures me and I nod before trying to walk away. I say 'try' because the man gripped my upper arm and pulled me back so that I was flush against his out of shape chest, close enough to smell the cheap beer he'd been drinking.

"Let me go," I mumble, shooting a glance over to Wilson from under my bangs. He looks… amused by my current situation and the smirk on his gorgeous lips only gives me all the more reason to hate him.

"Why you gotta be like that baby, I'm only looking for some fun and you look like _fun_," the man holding me grunts out, grinding his crotch against me as his buddies behind him snickered.

_Oh yeah, because this is real fucking funny._

"Get the fuck off of me before I break your nose," I growl, pulling against the tool that is holding me. Again, my gaze drifts over to Wilson and it makes me happy to see that he has straightened in his seat, eyes fixed on me. From this far away I can't read his eyes, but I know that there is now more than just amusement in them and that makes me want to grin. It's the idiot holding me in place that keeps me from grinning.

"Look boys, this one has a bit of fight in her. I hope that carries over into the bedroom," the _boy _says with a sleazy smirk and my hand fists at my side.

"If you really wanna know about that, go ask my _boyfriend_," I tell him and his face sobers a bit before the smirk returns.

"I don't see him here now; you're bluffing," he accuses me and I almost swear out loud. Why the hell can't Wilson _not _be an ass for once and actually come when I need him to? The man is right though, Wilson is far from my boyfriend…, on that note I'm not even sure what the hell we are. I think the closest I can label us as is either fuck buddies or partners in crime that fuck each other; they're both kind of the same thing and knowing Wilson, if he were over here he'd say he is my master and that I am his willing whore or some shit like that.

"I know self defense," I warn the guy, mentally going over all the ways that I can possibly kill him right now before realizing that killing wouldn't be a good thing to do seeing as Wilson is in the middle of an important meeting. Why the hell someone decides to have important meetings at a popular club where there are scum bags is beyond me, but if Wilson says it then it's so.

"Uh-hu toots, I'm sure you do," the pervert says and his friends snicker once again.

"I'm giving you one last warning to let me go before I break your nose," I say, glad that the slur is gone from my words and that my mind is starting to clear; it's annoying though that I couldn't stay buzzed because of the moron holding my arm.

"Now baby why would I ever want to let go of someone as sexy as you?" he asks, his eyes roaming over my body. I'm angry now that Wilson forces me to wear such tight and short dresses because it just gives more for perverts to stare at.

With a growl, I pull back my free fist and slam it into the man's nose. The crunch of bone and cartilage under my knuckles makes me smirk, the man's cries of pain only sweetening the whole deal as blood gushes from his broken nose.

"Told you so," I taunt, stepping away from the guy and his buddies. "Now get the fuck out of my sight." I don't need to say it twice this time; the group of frat boys are gone within seconds. For a moment people around just stare at me, watching and waiting to figure out what I will do next and if I am someone that needs to be thrown out.

"Get me another one, will ya?" I ask the bartender, and that seems to break the ice as people go back to drinking and dancing. The man behind the bar has just brought back my drink when someone comes up behind me and taps my shoulder.

"Mr. Slade requests your presence," the deep voice of one of Wilson's unnecessary bodyguards informs me and I just nod, knocking back my shot before asking for another.

"Now," he emphasizes, his hand gripping my arm.

"You did see what I just did to that other guy, right? Now get your hand off of me and let me get my drink; I'll be over to see Wilson," I tell the man and he looks at me warily before turning and heading back over to Wilson's table. When my second drink comes back, I order two others and drink all of them before turning away from the bar and stumbling across the dance floor to Wilson's table. I can't stop myself from pausing to dance through a song or two with whoever pulls me against their chest because I've always loved to dance. My heart pounds in time with the music as the lights ruin my vision and all I can rely on is my sense of touch as my body rocks against that of a random man or woman.

By the time I finally make it to Wilson's table, I am giggling and have a fruity drink in my hand. There is a guy with me, but this time he isn't being a tool and I actually enjoy his company…or maybe I am just really drunk and that's why I don't mind him having his arm around my waist and grabbing at my ass and kissing along my neck as I stumble towards Wilson.

"Get rid of the trash," Wilson's voice orders and I feel my heart start pounding harder just after hearing him speak.

"Hey! What the hell man?!" the guy on my waist yells as a couple of Wilson's guards come over and start pulling him away. "Terra!" he yells out in hopes that I will help him.

"Thanks for the drink," I call after him with a giggle, raising my drink as I wave sadly at him with my free hand.

"Terra, come here." My giggles stop upon hearing Wilson speak, this time to me. A chill runs down my spine and I force myself to turn to the man that has ruined all of my innocent life and threw me into the mud of the world. My blue eyes lock with his mismatch green and brown ones and I suddenly feel sick, but at the same time I feel like my body is on fire and that it's only Wilson that can put out the flames and save me from burning alive.

Acting on its own, my body starts to move towards Wilson. The only thing I have control over at the moment is my hand that is holding my drink and I quickly raise the fruity drink to my lips to down the contents. Numbly, I hand the empty glass to a random man at the table, mumbling thanks as I continue walking towards Wilson.

"It took you a long time to get over here Terra," Wilson points out when I finally stand next to him.

"Yeah well it's not my fault that you had to get a table in the very back corner of the club," I mutter, crossing my arms while trying not to stumble around even though I am standing still… at least, I _think _I am standing still because right now it feels like my world is spinning.

"And breaking that man's nose? What's your excuse for that?" he questions and I raise my eyebrow at him.

"You were watching the whole time, you should know exactly what the reason for me smashing his face in is," I remind him and a couple of men at the table chuckle. Hearing their reactions, I can't help but giggle myself, my drunken laughter only increasing when Wilson's eyes narrow at me.

"Watch your tongue," he threatens and I just stare down at him.

"Or what?" I hiss, bending over and placing my hands on the arms of Wilson's chair. We keep eye contact for a second before I am face down against the table, my arms pulled behind my back and Wilson bending over me. I struggle, boy do I struggle; kicking and swearing against Wilson as he holds me down against the table while the men around laugh.

"You should know _exactly _what happens when you don't listen to me, Terra," he hisses against my ear, pressing himself against my ass which I'm sure is showing at least a little because the dress is so damn short.

"Let me go!" I yell, trying to smash my heels down onto Wilson's feet but only to wince when I come into contact with his steel toe boots.

"She's got quite a wild spirit Wilson, I'm surprised you take her out in public," a man close to the head of the table says and I snarl at him, lashing out and attempting to bite him when he makes to move my hair out of my face. "Damn bitch!" he yells, pulling back his hand as I try to bite him again.

"Oh yes, Terra is quiet spirited; it makes it that much more enjoyable to have her begging beneath me," Wilson says smugly and the men at the table laugh. From what I can see with my face pressed against the table, all of the men are high class and wealthy, definitely not the usual scum that's seen in clubs or even in this part of town. The only reason they are even here is so they can get a piece of Wilson's drugs and some ass at the same time since the club is crawling with whores.

"Tell me Mr. Slade, have you ever used your merchandise on the girl?" a man asks, looking over at me with curious and lustful eyes. I growl at him and pull back my upper lip like a dog, baring my teeth savagely. To my disgust, this only makes the man's look of lust deepen as his gaze falls to my chest which is pressed against the table and causing my cleavage to spill out of my dress.

"There's never any need to because even when she tells me she doesn't want it, her body still reacts to my every touch telling me that she _does _in fact want it," Wilson explains and I try to suppress a shudder when he runs his fingers along my spine, but I can't stop the reaction; my eyes closing as my lips part and I arch my chest further into the table while lifting my rear into the air so that I can feel his touch better. The men around the table seem to be in some sick form of awe as they stare at me with hungry eyes. I feel like throwing up, but when Wilson's fingers continue to trail down and he runs them along the inside of my legs being sick is the last thing on my mind as I bite my lower lip and let out a whimper.

"Extraordinary," one of the men gasps out, watching my face closely before looking up at Wilson.

"Just think men, how your clients will react with the drug in their system if this is what a touch can do _without _the drug," Wilson suggests to the men at the table as his hand travels further up my legs and slips under my dress, his fingers teasing along my underwear line.

"Let me go," I groan beneath him, trying to struggle but at the same time push against Wilson further.

"Are you sure that's what you want me to do?" he whispers against my ear, speaking so that no one else at the table can hear. I am about to yell to the sick bastard that of course I'm sure I want him to get the hell off of me when he pushes past my underwear and slides his finger into me.

I throw my head back as far as I can in my position, my eyes wide open but seeing nothing as he curls his finger within me and I let out a loud moan. "Yes, oh fuck Wilson, _yes_!" I cry out, bucking back against his hand as he slowly slides in another finger.

"Very well," Wilson says calmly before releasing me as he pulls away from my body completely. For a moment, I am left breathless still lying face down on the table… then I realize just what has happened and quickly stand up, pulling my dress down in the process. Warily, I look at the faces of men at the table and have to bite back my comments of disgust towards their aroused expressions because I know that it will make bad business for Wilson.

"I'm leaving," I announce, turning to Wilson as I speak. He looks up at me lazily before nodding. I take this as my approval to go and turn away from him only to have my wrist grasped.

"You may leave Terra," he says slowly as I turn back to look at him. "After you clean up the mess you made." With that said, Wilson holds up his two fingers which are covered in my arousal; an actual trail of it running down into his palm making me embarrassed with just how horny I had been in front of a bunch of old perverts.

"Here's a napkin, clean it up yourself," I growl, throwing said piece of paper at his face before turning to leave once again. No sooner than having taken a step and Wilson's hands are on me again, this time gripping my neck as he slams my back down onto the table and stands over me, cutting off my oxygen.

"What was that you said, Terra?" he hisses, squeezing my neck tighter and causing me to see sparks dance across my vision.

"Clean it up," I croak out, trying to pry his hands off my neck, "yourself." The look of murder on Wilson's face makes me laugh which just makes what little oxygen I have left in my lungs run out faster as I start to feel light headed and my vision starts to blur and go black around the edges. Just when I'm sure I'm going to pass out, Wilson lets go of my neck and I'm coughing from the sudden rush of air to my lungs.

"You bastard," I cough out, still lying down on the table and gingerly holding my neck which I'm sure is going to be bruised.

"Be careful with what you say Terra, I would really hate to have to kill you; you're one of my favorites after all," Wilson taunts, smirking at me from where he stands a step or two away from the edge of the table. Men around the table laugh at Wilson's warning and it only makes my anger grow as I let out a growl before jumping off the table and straight onto Wilson with all intentions of giving the asshole a piece of my mind. He knows it was coming though, Wilson always knows what's going to happen before anyone else does, and he easily evades my attack. So now I find myself once again with my back pressing against the club table which I'm sure is crawling with disgusting germs and Wilson is bending over me, his hand firmly on my stomach holding me down.

"Clean them off," he orders once again, holding his hand near my mouth. I make an attempt to bite his hand, but this only causes Wilson to grab hold of my hair and use the grip he has to slam my head back against the table. I'm actually glad when some of the men at the table jump, wincing from the sickening thud; at least it means that they aren't complete monsters.

"They're not even wet anymore," I point out and Wilson examines his fingers for a moment before letting his hand trail down my body, stopping in between my legs.

"No! Let me go!" I yell, struggling and trying to get free. It's no use though because Wilson always has and always will be stronger than me and easily holds me down against the table as he completely removes my underwear and slides his fingers back into me. I tell myself not to enjoy the feeling of him inside of me, that what he's doing is a form of rape, but I have no control over my body as angry tears start to pool in the corner of my eyes and my hips rock up to grind against his hand. The table is silent during this exchange, waiting to hear my sounds of pleasure again, but I bite my lip to keep quiet and only let out whimpers. My lip starts to bleed.

"Clean them off," Wilson orders me once again, holding his dripping fingers over my mouth once again. A drop of my arousal falls from his extending fingers and lands on my lips and, against my will, my tongue darts out of my mouth and quickly licks it up, a hum escaping my mouth from the tangy taste.

"That's a good girl Terra, lick them clean," Wilson encourages me, his hand that was once on my stomach now stroking the inside of my thigh as I take his fingers into my mouth and suck all of my juices off of them. Within my mouth, I taste every bit of his fingers that I can, running my tongue along all surfaces of Wilson's fingers as I moan softly.

"Excellent show my whore," Wilson whispers against my ear when he removes his fingers with a pop. To seal the deal, he kisses my lips softly before moving away from my body and sitting back in his chair. Like flipping off a switch, I'm mad again; absolutely _pissed _about what Wilson has just done to me in such a public place.

"Give me back my underwear," I demand, standing up once again but this time a fair distance away from Wilson. He looks up at me casually, dangling my lacey thong delicately between his fingers.

"I would love to Terra, but I'm afraid that they're a gift to the man that buys the most of my product," he explains and I stare at him for a moment before turning and walking away.

_Keep the God damn underwear; sell it to some creepy pervert. See if I give a damn. _I think angrily as I shove my way towards the front exit of the club. People still grab at me, but I just rip their prying hands off of my body and keep walking as tears start to spill over.

"Take me home," I order the driver of Wilson's private vehicle as I'm sitting down in the passenger seat. The young buff man looks back at me warily, explaining to me that he can't leave without Wilson and that I'd have to wait for him.

"Listen you fuck head! You're going to take me home now, or I'm going to blow your fucking brains out! Understand?!" I scream, pulling out the handgun from the glove compartment and pressing it against the driver's temple. He is frozen for a few seconds, breathing quickly and staring over at me wide eyed.

"Put the car in drive and start driving!" I order, trying to ignore the way my throat stung from talking so aggressively. Looking over at me once more, the driver quickly did as I told him and pulls away from the club. It isn't until we are almost three blocks away and close to home that I finally pull the gun away from his temple, keeping it in my lap as I try not to randomly break out in tears.

_These tears aren't random Terra; you have every right to cry right now. _My subconscious tells me, but I just shove down those thoughts. Weak thoughts like that will be of no help to me when dealing with Wilson.

When we reach the drive way of Wilson's lavish mansion, the driver stops the car and looks over at me with scared eyes.

"Calm down pussy, I'm not going to blow off your useless head," I mutter, climbing out of the car with the gun still in my hand. For whatever reason, maybe the years of killing that I've done because of Wilson, I feel better with the weapon in my hand; a feeling of clarity and peace washes over me with it in my hand so there's no way in hell I'm going to let it go. So into the house with me the gun goes, being so kind as to even escort me into the kitchen where I find Wilson's expensive alcohols which I take with me and the gun to the poolside.

Along the way to the pool, I catch sight of myself in a hallway mirror and it almost makes me cry. Instead, I just stare at my red eyed reflection, mad that I have let myself cry and that the makeup smearing down my cheeks proves that I have been weak.

"Fuck!" I scream before aiming the gun at the mirror and firing three shots into it. The mirror brakes, some pieces of the glass flying out and leaving small cuts on my arms but I honestly don't care about them; I don't care about anything at the moment except that the mirror is completely destroyed and will never be showing anyone their _pretty _reflections again.

_Just make it outside; make it to fresh air. _I chant over and over in my head as I wander through the hallways before finally finding the glass doors that will lead me out to the patio along the pool. With only the lights inside the pool on, it's rather dark outside but that's what I want; I need the dark to comfort me and help ease my hazy mind.

"Bottoms up," I whisper hoarsely, lifting whatever open bottle of alcohol that's in my hand and tipping it back against my lips. I think that I chug half of the bottle in one sitting. And as I'm going back for another drink, I start to cry.

"Why God damnit, why am I here?" I sob, hugging the bottle and gun against my chest as I rock along side the pool. Tears are over flowing from my eyes and I shut them in hopes that it will stop my crying, but the tears just keep coming as I hiccup and finish off the bottle. The alcohol is warm and normally will leave a feeling of content inside of myself, but right now it just sits heavily in the pit of my stomach and burns my insides.

"Don't drink that one, the other bottle is really much better," Wilson tells me as I reach blindly for another bottle of alcohol. Not even bothering to look back at him, I just move my hand over to the bottle he has suggested and unscrew it before taking a large drink from it.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, not even caring anymore that my words are slurring.

"After I offered up your underwear the sales went very smoothly and were finished up quiet soon. The gentleman that sat to your right was the one that ended up getting your underwear, most likely because of the way you moaned for me to finger you," Wilson says casually and I turn sharply to glare at him.

"I never said that!" I yell before quickly spinning my head back around so that Wilson won't see my tears. There's no use though; I should know that Wilson will notice every detail about me the moment he walks into the room.

"Christ Terra, you're an absolute mess," he mutters lowly, walking over to me slowly and stopping so that he stands just a couple of steps back and to my right.

"Yeah well no thanks to you, bastard, I hiss, drinking more of whatever delicious alcohol is in the bottle in my hand.

"If you had just obeyed to begin with, none of that would have been as bad. Besides, it's not like you didn't enjoy the whole thing," Wilson points out and I feel my tears start to come faster as I stand up and hold the gun against his chest.

"I'm not just talking about tonight!" I yell, staring at Wilson with red and grossly puffy eyes. "I'm talking about my entire life! I was happy God damnit and you stole that from me! You killed Logan and took me away and made me into exactly what you wanted and now you just use me like I'm not even a human anymore!" I scream, applying more pressure to the gun as I try to breathe.

"Put the gun down Terra," Wilson orders, staring down at me with narrowed eyes.

"Why huh?! Why the hell should I listen to anything that you say?! There's no table around to use to force yourself onto me so what could you even do to me?!" My breathing is faster now and the world is starting to spin. I think I drop the bottle in my other hand, but I honestly can't say for sure. All I know is that I'm hurting and that the hurting hurt and that being hurt sucks and I just want it all to end.

"I hate you," I finally whisper, my arm starting to shake as Wilson continues to stare me down. For a good minute we just stand as we are; the pool lights casting shadows onto Wilson's face that only amplify just how handsome he really is. Never would I have thought upon seeing Wilson just walking along the streets that he's a bad man that does horrible things to good people.

"Fuck you Wilson, you can't control me any longer," I hiss, turning the gun on myself and pressing it against my temple as I pull the trigger.

**00-00-00**

I won't even bother with the whole "oh my gosh I'm back!" thing because we all know how that turns out. I'm sorry that I've been a horrible author in terms of updating and giving my readers what they want. Let's just say that life has been crazy these past couple of years or so that I've been away, but that things are finally falling into place and I can actually breathe again so I'm trying my best to get back into writing.

I'm sure you all would be significantly happier if I actually updated one of my in-progress stories rather than starting another one, but I have a lot done on this short story – it will really only probably be like 5 chapters at the most – so I wanted to get something out to hopefully catch my lovely readers' attention before I actually crack down and work on an update for another story. I'm pretty sure that most of my other stories have chapters in progress so it's really just a matter of me skimming through the story again, looking through my notes, and remembering where I was going with it.

A lot has happened to me in these past couple/few years and I'm really hoping that I can apply it all towards my writing and give you wonderful readers what you deserve: kick ass endings to stories that you hopefully still enjoy and would love to see finished. So unless you're sick of me, please stick around for what's to come next. I promise that when I finally get around to updating stories that they will be everything you guys have been hoping for and more. Any suggestions/demands for which story I should focus my attention on next? I aim to please so let me know.

_K. _


End file.
